


kiss the girl

by aceofdiamonds



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 00:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12569596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceofdiamonds/pseuds/aceofdiamonds
Summary: jon and sansa go to a halloween party but, really, it’s not about that at all.Sansa turns to look at him, laughing at a half-hearted fight that’s broken out between Shrek and Will From The Inbetweeners, and Jon’s heart stutters, because, oh, this is the moment, here in this random person’s flat on Halloween, that he realises that he’s in love with Sansa Stark.





	kiss the girl

**Author's Note:**

> i haven’t written jon and sansa for ages but then i wanted to write something halloweeny and this walked right into my head. excuse the cheesy title, it was completely unavoidable.

  


“And there’s no one else you want to ask?” Jon checks.

Sansa frowns. “Of course not,” because yeah, they’re best friends, and Jon loves that, loves how much closer he and Sansa have become over the last couple of years, but —

“But this is a couples costume.”

“Are you offended to be seen in a couple costume with me, Jon?” Sansa asks, eyes narrowed, but before he can say anything else she rolls her eyes, tosses him the waistcoat. “Relax. People have been telling me for years to go as Ariel because of my hair and you and Prince Eric are practically twins — it’s meant to be.”

“The things I do for you,” Jon sighs, so over the top, as he pulls off his t-shirt to put on a white shirt.

“You’re my hero,” Sansa simpers, hand over heart and is that — is that a blush when she looks at Jon’s chest? Or is that Ariel’s cartoony makeup that makes Sansa’s eyes look even bigger than normal.

“This seems very last minute,” Jon points out, starting to button his shirt. He gets halfway up before Sansa waves a hand to stop him. “I’m not wearing it this open, Sans, it’s three degrees out there.”

“You know what uni’s like — so impromptu, so spontaneous,” and her eyes are sparkling, so happy to be dressing up, to be going out and having fun. “I’ll keep you warm, Jon — wait here while I get changed and don’t you dare do any more buttons up.”

So he sits on Sansa’s bed, picks up the book she’s left lying open face down, and starts where she’s left off. Last Halloween, Jon and Sansa had stayed in with Rickon and watched Scream, something they later regretted when twelve year old Rickon refused to go to bed, _not because he was scared but just in case something was hiding in his cupboard_. But this year they’re both at uni, both spending an awful lot of time in each others rooms, and Jon, without sounding completely cheesy, is okay with putting on a shirt and a waistcoat because he’s finding that Sansa’s happiness is probably the thing he’s most interested in. Okay, there was no way that wasn’t cheesy, but, shut up, she’s his best friend.

“Did you bring that vodka I left at yours?” Sansa calls through from the bathroom.

“Yeah and I picked up some Sprite on the way.”

“What would I do without you?” Sansa says, walking back in. Jon slots a recepti into the book, distracted, until he looks up and sees Sansa’s costume.

“People will think we’re having a competition to show off the most flesh,” is the first thing he says which doesn’t sound very complimentary but his brain’s short-circuiting at the curve of the purple bikini top Sansa’s paired with a high-waisted long floaty green skirt. Sure he’s seen her in bikinis before, they’ve been to the beach loads of times, but there’s something about mermaids, isn’t there? He swallows, focuses on the fish earrings dangling from her ears. “Your earrings are nice.”

“You’re a sweetheart,” Sansa smiles, because she’s always known how to read his mind. “Now get your waistcoat on and let’s go.”

  


.

  


The music’s loud, the flat is crowded, and Jon can’t help but notice the varying degrees of costumes going on -- full out character costumes with giant heads and appendages getting everywhere, elaborate makeup and a fancy headband, people with half-arsed masks hanging off their ears.

Sansa squeezes past people on her way to the kitchen, her hand small in Jon’s as she pulls him after her. Her hair is big and curly, various fish clasps decorating it, and Jon finds he can’t take his eyes off it even more than usual. He’s too warm in his boots and jeans and shirt.

Sansa turns to look at him, laughing at a half-hearted fight that’s broken out between Shrek and Will From The Inbetweeners, and Jon’s heart stutters, because, _oh_ , this is the moment, here in this random person’s flat on Halloween, that he realises that he’s in love with Sansa Stark.

  


.

  


We’ll rewind.

  


.

  


Jon and Sansa become friends the way most people do. Or, that’s what they tell people.

Jon’s always been around. His dad died when he was young and his mum has struggled a bit ever since -- she always liked him being at the Starks, a giant family with a lot of imagination and a lot of care to go around. So Jon would spend days on end at Sansa’s house over the summers, coming over after school to do his homework at the table with everyone else, coming over on Christmas Eve with his mum to have dinner.

He’s just always been there, a part of the family, but not really.

Him and Sansa never had that much to do with each other, despite all of this. Jon was Robb’s age, Jon was Arya’s type of fun, Jon was Bran and Rickon’s role model, this strong boy with muscles and a hidden wit. While Jon was being all this Sansa was interested in so many other things she barely had time to look Jon’s way.

(But that’s not true, either. There were many times over the years when the two of them found themselves in an unexpected alliance, be that in hide and seek or scavenger hunts or opinions of Robb’s new girlfriend. Time and time again they would surprise both themselves and everyone else by agreeing with each other and realising that, actually, they had some things in common.)

Okay, so call their history complicated and move on.

A couple of years ago things got scrambled up even more when Robb moved out and Jon kept coming round. You would think now would be when he spent more time with Arya, with Bran, hell, with Ned, but instead he finds himself chatting to Sansa over the dining room table, comparing books, comparing music, comparing those odd observations of the world.

Jon’s not long broken up with Ygritte, you see, and Sansa’s had a couple of near misses with a couple of boys who have no idea how strong the Stark boys can punch, and so they bond over things turning out differently from how they expected and their wariness of going into the big wide world now the paths in front of them have shifted and, they really do love a lot of the same music.

They become, again to everyone’s surprise, pretty much joined at the hip. Jon moves away to Glasgow for uni but they phone all the time, Sansa updating the Starks on how his courses are going, how he’s thinking about enlisting in the army but he’s not sure. He comes home every few weekends, Sansa the second stop after his mum, a quick hello to Ned and Catelyn before he’s going up the stairs and into the room across the hall from Robb’s.

Then Sansa moves to Glasgow, goes to the same uni, because it’s a big one, it’s an old one, with Hogwarts style turrets and a History of Art course with glowing reviews. She moves into halls while Jon moves into a flat with Sam and Gilly and for the first few months, everyone keeps thinking they’re dating, because girls and boys can’t be friends, remember?

  


.

  


So this moment, with Shrek and Will going at it, and Sansa looking at him, her mouth moving into a question that he can't hear -- this moment really fucks that up, doesn’t it? Because Jon loves Sansa, she’s his best friend, he can tell her everything, but fuck, he really really wants to kiss her and everything else that goes with that sort of thinking.

  


.

  


Sansa tugs Jon into the tiny bathroom off the kitchen. She sits him on the toilet, crouches in front of him, and in this moment, Jon can’t help but notice how the lights are reflecting off of her eyeshadow, sparkling and sparkling.

“I’m not drunk,” he says out loud, which probably makes her think that he is.

“You look a bit stunned,” Sansa says, frowning. She presses a hand to his forehead, her skin cool. “What the hell happened to you?”

“I had an epiphany,” he tells her, shaking his head to clear it and suddenly feeling a lot better, like he really is a cartoon prince who’s been knocked in the head with stars dancing around him. “That I really really like you, Sans.”

“Oh.”

Jon waits. “Oh’s a very ambivalent word,” he says carefully after Sansa hasn’t said anything for  a minute.

“Oh means that I’m thinking a random bathroom is a strange place to have this conversation.” she says, hand still on his forehead, her face so close to his.

Of course he’s always thought she’s beautiful, of course he’s always found her funny and clever and kind, as well as snappy and a little judgey, and sometimes very irritating. But it’s only now that he’s putting all of those things together, linking them with the way his stomach always swoops when he makes her laugh extra hard or when he smells her perfume or that funny little twinge in his chest when someone assumes they’re dating and one of them laughs and says, no, of course not, they’re best friends.

But they can be best friends and kiss. Monica and Chandler do that and he’s pretty sure Ned and Catelyn are something similar.

“It hit me out of the blue,” Jon says, aware of all of these thoughts cluttering up his head and assuming Sansa has something of the same. She’s still so close to him. The red lipstick he watched her apply earlier is still perfect -- she had read the _smudgeproof_ claim on the tube and made a joke about pulling someone to test it. And, oh, Jon’s had this big revelation and he’s just assuming Sansa will feel the same when she’s at liberty to go and kiss whoever she likes.

He opens his mouth to say this, and to say that they should move because her legs must be falling asleep, when Sansa smiles, looks at peace.

“I’m going to kiss you now, okay?” Sansa says, voice low, her eyes steady on Jon’s, waiting for his nod, before he’s watching her close them, eyelashes brushing her cheeks, and she’s leaning in, she’s brushing her lips against his own. Jon curls a hand in her hair, tilts his head, kisses her, gentle, slow, everything feeling brand new and familiar all at once.

Sansa tips forward, her weight shifting to Jon’s lap, careful. They’ve fallen asleep in the same bed more times than they count but hands have always been cautious, boundary crossings have never been considered, and now Jon has a hand in Sansa’s hair, a hand on her waist, her skin warm in the space between her bikini top and her skirt.

Thriller is filtering through the locked bathroom door, past the loud singers, the occasional resigned knock at the door because they’ve been in here for far too long, as though they don’t know that Ariel and Eric, the two they’ve always assumed to be together, have just made that leap.

“Let’s go home,” Sansa breathes into Jon’s neck, and Jon follows her back into the sea of people, a smudge of red lipstick on his lip and a grin a mile wide.

  


.

  


They walk the short journey back to Sansa’s, hands swinging between them.

“I’ve never really thought about it before,” Sansa says matter-of-factly. “But there were times when I found you stupidly attractive and didn’t know what to do about it or someone on my course said they always went on your insta and I felt a confused jealously that I didn’t get or whenever I was out no one ever caught my eye and all I was thinking about was you..” She looks at Jon, eyes wide. “I mean, you’re my best friend, Jon. I never even thought --”

“Why don’t we see what happens?” Jon suggests, because he knows that although they’re having all these thoughts and wants, dawning retrospective realisations, they shouldn't rush into anything. “Why don’t we go back to yours, see what happens, and we don’t make any big decisions tonight?”

Sansa grins. “Take me home, Eric!” She swoons, hand over her eyes. “My human legs have gone and I can’t walk on land -- will you be my big strong prince and rescue me?”

“I think Ariel rescues Eric in the film --”

“I know my feminist heroes, Jon.”

“But I suppose I can be the hero tonight.”

He gestures for her to jump on his back before she does, Sansa leans in and kisses him again, the kiss quicker than the last but she presses up against him, her tongue brushing his, and Jon finds equal merit in both of them, his head spinning with how oblivious he’s been for so long.

“Did I tell you I really really like you too, Jon?”

  


.

  


However things go, if they call it a random night caused by coupled up costumes and the mysterious sexiness of Halloween, or if they decide to make a go of it and start dating, Jon knows that they’re going to be okay.

 

 


End file.
